


Moving On

by Estirose



Category: Power Rangers Time Force
Genre: F/M, Jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estirose/pseuds/Estirose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wes tries to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving On part 1

It was a sunny, warm day in the middle of winter, and Wesley Collins, along with the rest of Silver Hills, was enjoying the break from the cold weather. It had been over a year since his friends had left for the last time in their ship, and he had been busy structuring and gathering funds for the free public incarnation of the Silver Guardians.

While he and Eric still trained together, he noticed more and more that he was being pushed towards administrative functions. Part of it, he suspected, was because his father's bootlickers still trusted him over Eric, never mind that Eric was educated and intelligent. That frustrated both of them to no end; it was the same kind of snobbiness that punctuated their time at prep school.

The last year had been... interesting, to say the least. Being a Ranger had left him little time to deal with relationships outside dealing with his father and the Rangers, and little time even for his father. Not that it had been a big deal during that time, as he'd believed his father had disowned him.

Now he knew that his father had been extremely proud of him, and continued to praise him for his work with the Silver Guardians. Sometimes he wished that he could continue to have his cake and eat it too, have his teammates with him, but he knew all things had to come to an end.

In particular, he missed Jen. He'd been *so* mature about letting her go, realizing that there was no time to start the relationship that he'd known would have been possible if he'd just spoken about his feelings. But he didn't want to feel foolish, not in front of her and not in front of the others. Besides, he was sure that Time Force had a rule about fraternization, and he'd sworn the loyalty oath.

But that didn't mean he wished there had been one, or that he'd not been so shy about things.

Still, the past was the past and he doubted that anyone was going to invent a time machine by the time he died. In fact, it would probably be a thousand years until humanity traveled in time on purpose. So he had to get on with his life. At some point in the future, no doubt, he would run Bio-Lab. He had to let go and find someone else to love, or at least someone else to marry.

But he doubted he'd ever fall in love again. Not with Jen fresh in his mind. Not besotted like a teen on a woman that he could never have because he was born ten centuries too early.

"Oof!" he pronounced as someone he wasn't paying attention to ran straight into him. He looked into the face of someone... someone female.

She had a pleasant face which reminded him of Jen's. In fact, on closer examination, she looked a lot like his former teammate, except for short red hair which was definitely not dyed. There was no way the woman had had a dye job.

"Oh, sorry! Did I hurt you?" she asked, and he could have sworn that she also sounded exactly like his team leader. Of course, that was impossible. Jen's task was done and she was living in the thirtieth century as far as he knew.

"No, I'm okay," he responded. She continued checking him out in concern, the way that Jen might have.

"Hey, I'm Rachel. Coming to the fair?"

That's right, there was a fair. A celebration of the history of Silver Hills. He'd initially decided not to go because he didn't feel he could handle seeing pictures of the Rangers again.

But at the moment, it couldn't hurt to remind himself that this woman was not Jen coming to the past to be back with him. She'd come straight up, get onto the grounds, and resume their relationship. Not bump right into him and invite him out. That had not been Jen's way.

"Sure, I'll go," he said, smiling as she took his hand and pulled him along. Definitely not Jen.

* * *

"So, have you ever gone out with someone before?"

Wes shook his head. "I was in love with someone once before. But we didn't realize it until she had to move away."

Smooth lie. There was no way that Rachel could know that the last time he'd seen the love of his life was as she was beamed up to the ship that would take her back to her time. Rachel would probably react to it like he'd reacted to Jen's initial tale.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said, sounding and looking like she meant it. "To know you love someone and not be able to be close to them. Where'd she'd move to?"

"Somewhere that it's really hard to get in contact with her."

He couldn't say for certain, but he felt that Rachel was one of those people who wore their emotions on their sleeve. "I'm sorry," she responded. "I didn't mean to cause pain. Me and my big mouth."

"It's not your fault," he reassured her. It wasn't her fault, after all. She had brought up the subject, and it was his own fault if it had brought him pain, just as her uncanny resemblance did.

Rachel smiled at that, in a way that reminded him of Jen, but Jen had never been so open until she had gotten to know him and had relaxed a little. "Anyway, I was thinking if you were single, we could go out on a date?"

He returned her smile, wondering if it was a wise idea to do even that. Should he pretend an imaginary girlfriend? No, he'd just said that he'd hadn't had a date since Jen, and not even then. And he didn't want to offend her.

But maybe, maybe...

"I know this is going to sound weird, but you look and sound like the girl that moved away," he said. "You're pretty, and I wouldn't mind spending more time with you, but I want to get to know you as you, and I don't think I could do that right now."

Rachel's face dropped, and then a smile began to warm her face again. "An honest guy. Oh, she must have been so lucky! I don't want to be looked at and reacted to like I was somebody else, either."

If she only knew, he thought. If she had only knew that her almost-physical-double had done exactly that to him the first time they had met.  
But he didn't want to tell her about Jen. He didn't want to involve her in his life if he wasn't going to treat her right.

As they stepped into the cloth-walled exhibit, he responded, "That's why I wouldn't want to go out on a date until I was sure I could tell the difference. It's going to take me a long time to get over her. Maybe not ever."

"Oh, why didn't I meet you months earlier?" Rachel said, her face clearly in a pout. "Why couldn't I have met you before her?"

"If you had known me before I knew her, I'm not sure that you'd like me," he said honestly. "I got to know her... and a lot changed."

Rachel smiled again. "I guess that I'm lucky to have met you now."

"Yeah, lucky," Wes echoed, as they looked at the exhibits. The exhibit was a short one, and he could see a picture of the Rangers coming up. He knew without looking that this was probably something Bio-Lab had probably quietly contributed to, since there was a picture of the Silver Guardians. Why hadn't someone told him, if that was the case?

It didn't really matter. He hadn't intended on seeing this, especially with a girl he had just met and who reminded him of Jen but wasn't. And, as he reminded himself, he couldn't let his guard down. This was not Jen, and she had no idea about her history with the Rangers, nor that the features under that helmet were the same as hers.

Somehow they got out of the exhibit and Wes blinked his eyes at the sunlight after the cool dimness of the exhibit hall. "That was interesting," Rachel was saying. "I had no idea of the history here. Not native to Silver Hills, y'see."  
Knowing that the small talk would help him regain his composure, he responded, "You aren't?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nope. Came to do a customer service job in the billing department for Alexis Communications."

"The wireless carrier," he acknowledged.

"Umhum. I've been three months. I wanted a change of scenery, so here I came."  
Wes had to smile at that. "We're still rebuilding."

She returned his smile. "Yeah, I've heard about that. You know, I was afraid to go to Silver Hills? But Alexis pays well enough, and it's a good new start. Me and the city can rebuild together."

Wes nodded. The Silver Guardians had had a hand at that.

"Anyway, want something to eat? I'll pay," Rachel offered. "After all, I'm the one that ran into you."

"Thanks, but I need to go," Wes said, trying to find a way out. He'd probably never see Rachel again, and that was a good thing. She didn't drive him off, personality-wise, but he really didn't want to hurt this girl.

"Hey, that's fine," she said, reaching in to her purse. She seemed to be sorting through about forty zillion pieces of paper before finally coming up with a pen and a small notebook, tearing a piece of paper from it. "Look, I know from the way you act that you're someone that I'd like to associate with. I know you don't want to be false to me. But, maybe, call me sometime? I think I'd enjoy being friends with you, if nothing else. I know this sounds forward, but...."

She scribbled something on the little piece of paper and thrust it at him. He knew without looking at it that it was either her phone number or her email address, or probably both. "See ya!" she said before striding off, stopping to look at him after a half dozen steps as if she should say something more.

He looked at the messy handwriting and made out an email address. That was fine by him. He had a free email account, after all, to use as a throwaway just in case things went bad. She didn't know his last name, so there was no reason for her to question why he was using such an address.

So he would write her back. As long as he kept to his first name, there would be no problem. They would be friends, and as long as they kept to email. No problem there. He wouldn't be looking at her and reacting to her like she was Jen.

Wes squinted at a smaller squiggle that seemed to be a phone number, but he couldn't tell. Rachel had probably the worst handwriting he'd ever seen. Odd, most lefties had better handwriting than that, and most right-handed folk didn't bother to learn how to write left-handed, or so he had heard two of the Bio-Lab secretaries saying.

He could envision the first sentence of his email to her: "Hi, this is the guy from the fair. I intended to call you, but I couldn't decipher your phone number."

That was, of course, if he could be sure he was reading her email address clearly. Of course. He could say that he never got in touch with her because he couldn't read her handwriting. And it would be mostly the truth.

But it wasn't the whole truth.

Shaking his head, Wes headed off to look for his bike. It was clear that he had some thinking to do on the subject.

* * *

He was off, he was sure, as he kept colliding on the floor during his daily sparring sessions with Eric. Even his business partner and sometime friend must have noticed it, as he reached a hand out to help Wes out.

"What in the world is wrong with you?" Eric demanded.

"I've had something on my mind, that's all," Wes answered defensively.

"LIke what?" came the challenge.

Knowing that he'd never hear the end of it unless he told, he answered, "I met a girl."

"You met a girl," Eric repeated. "Since when does that shake you?"

"Since she looked just like Jen," Wes told him. "I mean, just like Jen, except that she had short red hair. She asked me to go out with her."

"And did you?" Eric asked. "Let me guess, no."

Wes shook his head. "How could I? I'd look at her and think of Jen, just like Jen looked at me and thought of Alex."

"For some reason, she still fell in love with you, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Why don't you go and invite her out so at least the Silver Guardians won't have to suffer you going through another pity party."

He opened his mouth to answer Eric, but realized his co-commander was right. It had taken him a while to adjust after his teammates had left, and it was fortunate that Eric could handle things. He was, after all, very intelligent and sharp.

"You're right," he told Eric, catching the surprise that flashed momentarily over his teammate's face. "I'll go write her back."

* * *

Wes pondered the email that had arrived in the mailbox on the free provider.

"Wes!!

Hi, I wasn't sure you'd reply. Wow.

Yes, I'm the girl who knocked you over at the History Fair. I'm sorry you couldn't read my numbers - I know, my handwriting's atrocious sometimes. Anyway, I wrote my number at the end of this email. Give me a call, okay? I'd love to get to know you better.

Rachel Whannel"

Well, now he had a name, an email address and a number. But despite everything, should he call?

Looking again at the telephone, he picked it up and dialed. A slightly breathless voice answered the line.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Rachel?"

"Yeah. Wes? Is that you? Wow."

He could hear the amazed smile in her voice and answered, "It's me. So, you want to have lunch sometime?"

"I'd love to! Have to be weekends though."

"No problem. The Morrison on Saturday at noon?"

"Love to. Bye!"

Wes smiled as he put the phone down. He couldn't help it; something about Rachel made him smile.

* * *  
Rachel was waiting for him at the Morrison, relaxed against a bench. She stood up as he approached her, smiling all the way. "Hey there, stranger," she said. "I haven't reserved us a table yet, ready to go?"

"Sure," he responded.

At lunch, Rachel chatted about anything and everything. When she was so talkative, she was easy to differentiate from Jen. If it hadn't been for Jen, he would probably have fallen in love with her. She was clearly bright and friendly, easygoing and relaxed. "You really haven't seen me at my best, really." she told him.

But she was definitely not Jen. An interesting person to listen to and to talk to, but she wasn't Jen.

"And I don't want to be a rebound relationship, either," Rachel told him. "Take your time. Friendship is worth a lot; don't forget that."

He didn't.

* * *

Eventually, every Saturday Wes found himself having lunch with Rachel. He had let a few things slip, but he was rather reserved telling her about himself. She knew what he did do for a living, and once she connected his surname, she had realized who he was.

But, much to Wes' relief, she never pressed him for a date. "I don't want to give you the impression that I want to be with you for your money. That's not my style."

And, as time passed, he noticed she became more serious, more quiet. It was as if she had some inner demons that she would not tell him about. Sometimes, he imagined he saw some mannerism of Jen's in Rachel, and then he had to shake his head and remind himself that Jen was happily back in her own time, and her ethics and honor wouldn't allow her to dress up as a twenty-first century civilian, even for him.

No, Rachel was just some kind of ancestor for Jen, which probably meant that the two would never marry.

So the two of them settled down for a friendship, and Wes was relieved that there was nothing more than a nice girl there who wanted to know him for himself rather than his connections. Rachel was happy with her job, and with her salary, and desired little more out of life than some good friends and an apartment building that allowed cats.

And as long as she didn't do anything that reminded him of Jen, that was fine by him. It was harder, though, nowadays. She was too calm and sweet to be Jen, but sometimes, when she was serious, and when she was quiet, he could look at her and swear he saw Jen looking back at him.

He didn't want Rachel to turn into Jen. Not in reality, and not in his imagination. So, one fine Saturday, at four in the afternoon on the one weekend she'd begged off lunch, he took a car and drove to her apartment.

Knocking softly on her door, he clutched the casserole dish containing the lasagna. It was one of her favorites, and he was able to convince his father's chef to make some for her. The chef, being a romantic at heart, had readily agreed.

"Who is it? Oh," Rachel said, her hair in disarray as if she'd just woken up. "Hi, Wes, what're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to cheer you up," he said, offering the lasagna in its dish to her.

Taking the casserole, she opened the lid and breathed in deeply. "It smells so good. Thanks for making it."

Wes blushed. "Brought it, actually. I was talking to the family chef and he's the one who made it for you."

Rachel smiled, putting the lid back on. "Homemade, still. That was really, really sweet of you, Wes. Hey, want to come in while I put this down? I feel I owe you something for coming all the way out here to give me my favorite."  
"Hey, I'd do it for any friend that wasn't feeling well."

She brightened. "Thanks, Wes, I really mean it."

Wes followed her in and shut the door behind him as she carefully carried the dish into her small kitchen. Gremlin, her cat, greeted the two of them with his odd meow, jumping onto the counter as she put the dish down. Rachel deftly lifted him up and put him down and he stalked off, apparently unhappy at her action.

Opening her refrigerator, she picked up a container and put it down in disgust. "Hey, if you want to stay here, we can share it. I just have to pick up something at the store. Sit down and I'll be right back."

Picking up one of several hairbrushes that seemed to be scattered around the house, she quickly brushed her hair, put on some shoes, and grabbed her purse. Then with a quick wave, she left, locking the door behind her.

Wes would have remained sitting, except when he heard a 'crash' coming from her bedroom. He hurried in, seeing Gremlin sit calmly down on the dresser, with one of the boxes she must have normally kept there on the floor.

As he picked it up, he saw something underneath the dresser. He frowned and picked it up, holding it up to the light.

Blinking, just in case his eyes were deceiving him, he looked at the object again.

What in the heck was Rachel Whannel doing with a thirtieth century communications device? One that wasn't halfway smashed, at that? The last time he had seen one of those was when Trip was working on some of the debris from the timeship crash. Such a piece of equipment would be keyed to work entirely on one person's DNA so it wasn't likely that someone from his time could activate it. Rachel's red hair would make her DNA sufficiently different so that she couldn't activate such a device as Wes had been able to do with Alex's morpher.

He examined the dents some more. Had some treasure collector scavenged it before his teammates had had a chance to look at it? Had he sold it, and that's how it came to rest under Rachel's dresser?

It was either that, or for some reason Rachel wasn't who she seemed to be. Sure, by some terrible coincidence a girl who looked and sounded a lot like Jen, who'd just moved into the area a few months before, could have bought what she thought was a piece of junk, but it made Wes suspicious.

Wes put the box back on the table, put the communicator back under the dresser, and picked Gremlin up. By the time Rachel came back with her soymilk, Gremlin was purring in his lap.

* * *

Several hours later, the two of them were still sitting in front of Rachel's TV. Wes had deliberately suggested some kung-fu movies, just to see Rachel's reactions, but to his disappointment she had fallen asleep. She apparently found them very boring. He started to wonder if he was just imagining things, that Rachel was not Jen, and he was suffering from teammate deficiency.

Still having doubts, however, he shook her gently. "Jen, where did Katie hide Lucas' poetry book this time? By the gears?"

"I don't know." Rachel murmured, sounding like she wasn't entirely there. "Go ask Katie, Wes. Or maybe Trip knows."

Wes shook her once more, finally waking her up. "Hi, Jen. What are you doing here?"

She blinked owlishly at him, horror appearing on her face.


	2. Moving On part 2

"What are you *talking* about?" she asked, the horror fading from her face to be replaced by a calm resolve.

Without answering her, Wes went to her bedroom and retrieved the communications device, tossing it to her. She caught it deftly and looked at it. As she did, he explained, "There were a few of these on the first timeship. I know about it because Trip was working on them, and he explained them to me. Besides, how would some stranger named Rachel from Cheyenne know about Lucas' poetry, or that Katie hid the book behind the gears of the clock tower once?"

Her shoulders sagged as she looked at the device. "I knew I should have had Trip design me a new shell. I didn't think you'd find it."

Shrugging, Wes crossed back to the couch and sat down. "Well, I did. What in the heck are you doing back in the twenty-first century, under an assumed name and in disguise? Jen, last I checked, you hated disguises! Remember that time with the Super Strong gym?"

"Yes, I remember. But I didn't have a choice, Wes! I couldn't risk Alex finding out what I'd done. He thinks I'm dead, and that the timeship that I was on was destroyed. That's what Trip tells me, anyway."

"Trip's in on this?" Wes asked, though he wasn't totally surprised.

"All of them are. Were. Wes, it took us five years to plan out and implement what you see today."

Wes tried to not close his eyes in despair.

As if not seeing his distress, Jen continued on. "It was actually Lucas who got the idea to come to the past. Originally, we were hoping to bring you into the future, but we couldn't risk Alex finding out and sending you back home. Besides, we're far more familiar with the twenty-first century than you are with our time."

"Personally, I wouldn't have taken offense," Wes told her.

"I know. But the others could see, even before I did, that I had lost touch with my own time. I just couldn't see any reason to get up out of bed in the morning. Oh, Alex was starting to press his desire to start up our relationship again, and I still had my job, but I had nothing to live for. In the end, it was Lucas that confronted me and told me that he couldn't stand it any more."

Wes nodded. It was similar to what he had experienced, but fortunately, he hadn't had the resources for such a crazy plan. Jen had been beyond his reach, and he had accepted that. Sort of. It had still taken a while before he could say he functioned, though.

"We planned it out carefully. I volunteered on several missions, just so that people would be used to me going on them. I kept Alex from being suspicious by never going near the twenty-first century, and finally, finally, he relaxed his guard. I was supposed to be going to the nineteenth century, alone, to retrieve an item that had fallen through a timehole. Instead, I packed what I wanted to take with me, and Trip modified the ship so that it would seem like it had vaporized."

"And the timeship?" Wes asked, suddenly hoping that he could send her back as he had once before.

"Vaporized. Wes, we're not exactly idiots either! We knew there was a possibility that you'd prematurely find out about me and attempt to trick me into coming home. I wanted you to remember me, remember the happy times, and for once, not think about the timestream. It's more flexible than you think, Wes. There's room for me, if I became someone else. That's why Rachel Whannel was born, and why Jennifer Scotts had to die in a timeship accident."

After a moment, she added, "Wes, I am not going to leave. This is my time now."

Wes looked at her, looked into her dark eyes, and knew that she was telling the truth. Over his objections, she would stay. Oh, he could write a postal letter and hoped it would get to someone in Time Force, but could he really do that?

Jen had been the one to turn his life around. She was the one who had convinced Alex to give him back his morpher. It was clear that she was willing to break the rules for what she thought of as a good clause, and their teammates were the same way.

Besides, Alex had released him from his oath shortly before the timeship had left for the last time. Jen was no longer his commanding officer, and he was free to pursue a relationship with her if he so pleased.

Still, he doubted that the timestream was as flexible as Jen thought it would be. Sure, there was some flexibility; the present hadn't changed much even though Katie insisted she'd met Walter Brown and that he had originally died lonely instead of meeting and marrying his wife.

And, besides, wasn't the road to hell paved with very good intentions? Love was important, but Jen of all people would know that there should be responsibility as well.

But Jen wasn't thinking with her brain. Jen and the others had been thinking with their hearts, just as they had when they had decided to stay in the Silver Hills of 2001, in imminent danger of death. He had been the only sensible one then, and obviously the only sensible one now.

Still, Jen had made it clear that even if they didn't pursue a relationship, she was staying. There was no future for her to go back to, at least in the sense that she had burned her bridges. He had the feeling that Jen would wait until the ends of the earth for him to come to his senses.

Jen was still looking at him expectantly, and he wasn't sure what to say. He really didn't want to break up with her, not after he had a chance with her, but he had to have space to think of alternatives. "I'll see you later, Jen," he managed to gasp out, and then headed for the door, ignoring his ex-commander's pleas.

* * *

Wes got up in the morning, reconnecting his phone, checking his email, and generally becoming part of the world again. After the debacle with Jen, he felt that he really needed to just remind himself that the world was normal. It was just his life that was now topsy-turvy.

"Good morning, Wes," his father greeted him. "I'm told you got in a little late last night."

"I was with Rachel," he said, surprised to see that he could still call Jen by her assumed name. "And then I had some things to think about."

His father nodded, taking the morning paper from a platter held by Philips and flipping it open. "You should bring Rachel over sometime, you know. I've been wanting to meet her."

Unable to tolerate the deception any longer, Wes said, "I think you have before."

"Oh?" his father said, leaning more towards him, paper momentarily forgotten. "In what way?"

"You know how I said she looks a lot like Jen? Well, that's because she *is* Jen. I found out by accident last night."

"She is? Excellent," the elder Collins told him. "I didn't like Jen at first. In fact, I resented her for quite a while. But she was the best thing that could have happened to us."

"Dad, I don't think you're seeing everything! She's not supposed to be here. It's like the trizirium crystals. Anything that comes here from the future is supposed to be destroyed or returned. It was only a fluke that Jen convinced her superiors that Eric and I could keep the morphers."

"Son, sometimes happiness is more important than anything else. Think about it." As Mr. Collins resumed reading the paper, he added, "Oh, and Eric wants to talk to you. You really shouldn't turn your pager off."

Rolling his eyes, Wes turned to have breakfast.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Eric asked as he entered. Eric was leaning against the doorframe of his office door, arms crossed. "I tried to page you last night!"

"I was a little occupied, Eric. If you must know, Jen is back. Rachel is Jen. Can you see my problem?"

"Not really," his co-commander said, entering his office. Wes followed him in.

"Look, Eric. She doesn't belong here. She's from the thirtieth century, and there's a reason she went home. If I could, I'd send her back."

"Plan on sticking her back on the timeship again, Collins? You know, sometimes people other than you want to have a say in their own destinies."

"I know that," Wes argued. "But not when it endangers the timestream."

"Look, mister high-and-mighty, sometimes us mere mortals know there are consequences too, all right? Jen knows what she's doing. And I think she knows it better than you do."

Wes shook his head. Would nobody understand? Or was he not understanding?

"Now, if you don't mind, since you were so out of touch last night, I have some things to do. Why don't you go out and resolve things with Jen so I don't have to listen to you mope for another three months."

Knowing a clue-by-four when he heard one, Wes headed back to his car, hoping Jen was still home.

* * *

As he knocked on the door of Jen's apartment, Wes wondered what he'd say. The stop at the florist had given him time to think, but nothing had come to his mind. Yes, he wanted to see Jen again. Yes, he wanted to resume their relationship. But he wasn't ready to start. This time, he would be the reluctant partner in this dance.

The door opened slowly, and Wes found himself holding his breath. He'd never given Jen flowers before, and he wasn't sure if roses meant anything different to the inhabitants of the thirtieth century.

"Wes," Jen greeted him, hair in a towel, though he could see little red hairs sticking out. "Come in."

She closed the door behind him and he found himself facing his former commanding officer once again. "These are for you," he said, holding the roses out awkwardly.

Jen gave him a tentative smile as Gremlin bolted towards his legs and proceeded to rub around him. "So, can you accept me here?"

"I guess... I guess that I can," Wes said, surprising himself with his words. "I still have reservations... but I think I should put those aside. I've been reminded of things."

Jen smiled, toweling her hair dry. "Thanks."

"For what?" he asked, surprised and uncertain of her meaning.

"For not being Alex. For not turning into Alex. When I met you, I didn't know this, but I was searching for something more in my life. When Alex came back to us, I knew that I had been, and that what, who, I was looking for was right in front of me. I wanted you, and I wanted you even before I realized I didn't want Alex. He'd changed, I'd changed, we'd all changed. I couldn't be what I was before. I didn't belong where I belonged before. So I came... home."

Wes stood there, speechless. Jen walked towards her bedroom, and he didn't follow her, not certain if he should. But she came out again, holding a little box, and Wes suddenly knew what it was.

"Will you marry me, Wesley Collins?"

He answered without words.


	3. Sunshine Days

Wes sat down in the spare chair in Jen's apartment, letting Jen dry her hair before they both announced their intentions to the world. Or at least to his father and Eric, and then to the world.

He fiddled with the engagement ring on his finger, scarcely believing that he had just accepted the proposal of someone who wasn't even supposed to be *in* his time. Not that he was complaining; he didn't think he would ever get to be with Jen again, and here he was given a full lifetime, barring accidents or Time Force intervention.

Jen came out of the bathroom, dyed hair fluffing out from her face, hardly a look he really associated with Jen. He supposed that was supposed to help keep Time Force off their rogue officer's trail, just as the change of name had, but it was certainly hard to get used to.

"You look wonderful," he said, and Jen smiled tenatively.

"Thanks," she said. "I might as well look my best if we're going to talk to your father."

"Belive me, he'll appreciate it," Wes told her. Standing up, he said, "Come on, let's surprise him."

* * *

But, if anything, his father merely raised one eyebrow when he saw Jen walk in behind Wes. "Good afternoon, Wesley, Jen." And with that, he motioned for Philips to put out settings for two more people.

Wes settled down in a chair, Jen quietly sitting next to him. "I heard you were back," Mr. Collins said to Jen. "I couldn't believe my ears. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Jen replied. Good and neutral, Wes noted approvingly.

"Good, good," Mr. Collins told her. "Are you back... permanently?"

"I am... or intend to be," Jen offered.

Wordlessly, Wes showed his father the engagement ring. His father's expression emulated one of startlement, but he somehow managed not to say anything for a minute or so. "I see. Have you made any plans yet?"

"Not really," Wes confessed.

His father looked at Jen appraisingly. "I presume you had something in mind after you proposed to my son."

Wes was surprised at his father's willingness to accept Jen's proposal as easily as he did; the multimillionare tended towards the conservative and women offering marriage proposals were not exactly common.

Jen gave a rueful smile. "Not really. I have ideas, but I thought it would take a lot longer for Wes to accept me."

"I'll leave it to you two, then, to sort out what you want to do, and then tell me," Wes' father said, though Wes saw the look in his eyes. To his father, this wasn't a marriage proposal. This was a business proposal, and Jen had just taken on the role of junior executive.

To Wes' relief, nothing more significant was said by his father, for his thoughts were more occupied with the realities of bringing Jen into the family and into his time. Sure, Jen had been living in the time, but in as low a profile as possible, something not entirely possible in his family.

And Jen seemed to be taking this whole thing with a grace he didn't think possible. She'd been here exactly once, and that was at the beginning, back when his father hadn't quite learned to be flexible and when he himself had not quite had his eyes opened to the possibilities of life, or for that matter, the possibility of people from the future. He'd made a fool of himself that day, and it was only his persistence and Trip's that he'd ended up permanent on Jen's team.

* * *

Later on, after the three of them had finished lunch, Mr. Collins had gone back to his work, or at least that's the excuse he'd made. In reality, Wes expected, he simply wanted the two of them to work things out now that they were officially engaged. One of the things that both he and his father had learned the hard way was that they were both exceedingly stubborn, and his father knew enough now to not try to push him in any direction, though gentle guidance was always at hand.

So he took Jen out to the area by the pool, near where Trip had once persuaded him to come back and try to persuade Jen once more to let him be a part of the team. Jen wouldn't know that, of course, but it felt right to Wes to plan out a future that had only happened because he was willing to ditch a meeting and risk going to someone who was ready to reject him. If it had failed, he'd never have been on the team at all, and he certainly wouldn't be sitting with Jen making wedding plans.

"What do we do next?" Wes asked idly, looking over at the recently-cleaned pool.

Beside him, in the next chair, Jen answered, "When I told your father I didn't really have any idea, I meant it."

She was smiling faintly, a half-embarrased look that probably had something to do with having one's dream come true and not being really prepared for the aftermath. "How does that happen here?"

"You know, I never asked?" Wes said, grinning back in his own embarassment. "We're not married yet, so there's no reason for 'you' to move here, just yet. I guess we'll just have to continue on with our lives until we can get married. Dad's probably planning the wedding as we speak." A though occured to him. "Rachel Whannel doesn't really exist, does she?"

Jen shook her head. "She died at two months old, of something called SIDS. That's why Lucas and I chose her - I knew that I wasn't going to be anywhere but Silver Hills, and one of Trip's programs changed the data so that everyone thinks that she didn't die. That I'm her. There shouldn't be any problems with the documentation, Wes. There can't be. We worked so hard to make sure I had a place to exist here. If my cover slipped, I could be found by Time Force - and they'd certainly consider me rogue."

Wes gave a slight nod. It had briefly occurred to him that Jen was in big trouble with her former employers, but only at this moment he realized how big a sacrifice that Jen had made to come back to him and be a part of his life. Five years of planning had gone into making sure that 'Rachel Whannel' had an identity in 2002, that there was no indication that Jen Scotts had survived her timeship accident. "Anyway, do you want to stay in your current job?"

His new fiancee gave a nod. "It's better that way. If I start making waves in the timeline, Time Force is bound to notice."

"Dad'll want grandchildren," Wes said, knowing how his father's mind worked. An attractive wife, children to continue the family business... it had been secondary to his father's attempts to get him interested in maintaining BioLab, but still there. "Did your mother have any problems carrying you?"

Jen gulped noticeably. "Producing kids doesn't work that way in my time," Jen responded quietly. "Humans just don't get pregnant anymore. I was concieved in a lab, Wes. My parents picked out my traits and then, nine months later I was born. We call it Canting, because children are gestated in containers, not in any sort of biological construct, and then when they're ready they're removed."

"Decanted. So," Wes said, "If somehow you and I were together in your time, we'd go and order up a baby and then we'd come back nine months later?"

She gave a small nod. "That's how it works. Not all species do it that way - Trip was born the same way you were, for example, but that's because Xybrian infants have to have a telepathic bond with their mothers - but we do." She paused. "It can't be that much harder than fighting Ransik for months on end."

Wes had to smile at that. "Don't know, never tried it."

Jen looked back at the pool. "It's funny, Lucas and Trip and Katie and I planned so much during the last five years, and now everything's working out I've forgotten what to do next."

"They wouldn't want you to be anything but happy," he said.

Jen pondered that. "They knew how we felt for each other, even when we didn't realize it ourselves."

"And teased you mercilessly when you got home, I bet."

A corner of her mouth quirked up. "Yeah."

"I guess we have the rest of our lives to thank them for that. And the planning."

"We do."

He followed her gaze back to the pool. So placid. Reaching for her, he drew her to himself until they could share a full kiss. At that moment, nothing mattered but the pool and the days ahead.

"Don't worry, be happy," he murmured when the kiss broke, looking into Jen's eyes.

Jen gave him another small smile. "I hope we will."


	4. Lawful and Good

It was, he reflected, not unexpected.

Alex turned away from the timeship's hangar and walked back towards the administrative offices with his hands behind his back. No, it was not at all unexpected, and he shouldn't have been surprised.

It had been nearly five years since Jennifer had been presumed dead in a timeship accident, her body torn apart as the ship had been in the time vortex. But when it came to timeship accidents, one never presumed anything. A traveler could well have found themselves waking up in a different century, all communication with their own time severed and their only choice living as unobtrusive a life as possible.

Jennifer had known that. That was why, five years after the accident that had possibly claimed her life, he was still scanning. And that was why he had stumbled upon her, while making a delve into the history of Silver Hills, the Silver Hills of the twenty-first century.

Into the personal history of a certain Wesley Collins, and the continued survival of a company called Bio-Lab. She had made herself a home, all right, and given the records, Alex had to wonder if her 'accident' had been no accident at all but a deliberate flounce at Time Force.

Alex's hands tightened as he thought of his ex-fiancee's actions. She, of all people, knew that it wasn't some nonsensical law that restricted time travel. It was, like so many other laws, to keep people safe.

Until today, he had thought she'd believed in them. Believed in the rightness of the law and the reasons why one didn't go into the timestream willy-nilly. Chasing after Ransik was one thing. It had to be done and despite everything she had done it. But her brush with the past, and specifically Wesley Collins, had apparently changed her far more than he thought.

Now it was he, Alex, who had to determine if it was a timeship accident that had so fortuitously put her back in the orbit of Wesley Collins, or if it had been planned that way. It was lucky for all of them that he had discovered this. He was the one who knew Jennifer better than anybody else. It should be up to him to determine whether she should be arrested or just retrieved like the stranded traveler that she might be.

As he continued walking, intent on returning to his office and discovering more about Jennifer's twenty-first century life, his eye was caught by three figures practicing out in the area set aside for practice. Their colored shirts peeking out from under their uniform jackets marked them as Time Force's current Ranger team, still active because Time Force had no reason to ask them to surrender their morphers.

Jennifer had not protested leaving her morpher off during time travel missions, not the first time, and not the last one. There was no evidence there that she'd deliberately left her own time.

But he would not decide her innocence or guilt on only one factor. He would have to learn more. He prided himself on knowing all that he could before making a decision, and when it came to his Jennifer's future, it was more critical than ever to do so.

Turning back to his solitary walk along the corridors, he left the Rangers behind.

* * *

Alex looked at the terminal again, at the data that had come up on Wesley Collins' wife, Rachel Whannel. Born April 19, 1977, died June 21, 2008 in a car accident which took the lives of herself and her children. As he brought up one of the surviving pictures from that time, he confirmed that he was looking at Jen. The black-and-white picture made her hair seem unnaturally light, but he'd looked at the face so often in years past that he'd recognize her anywhere.

"What are you doing back there?" he asked the image of the former love of his life. Surely Bio-Lab would have recovered any technology the Rangers had missed, and therefore she should have been able to find some way to communicate with their time.

Looking back at the picture, he blinked. It was apparently a picture of her on one of her travels - he could see the sign for the Alexandria visitor's center behind her.

Could this have been an accident? Was there some galactic reason why this picture had come to his attention?

Time was very unkind to its travelers, but showed mercy at the strangest of moments. If Jennifer had deliberately made this picture for him to see, then maybe time had seen to it that she would return to her own time and cease to be a problem to it.

Or maybe she had not wanted it to come to his attention at all, and time was still being kinder than it should. Alex stared at the photograph, willing the truth to come out of it and tell him precisely why she had ended up marrying Wesley Collins. Was the early twenty-first century that backward when it came to peoples' rights? Maybe she had to marry him in order to survive.

But then again, why go by Rachel when the whole community knew her better as Jen? Why the deception?

Alex shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was an investigation IA should be doing, not him, and yet he was the one that was responsible for her initial flight into the past, for her problems readapting to her own time. It had been his own almost-dying statement that had sent her there.

He was responsible, and therefore it was now his duty to retrieve her, innocent or guilty. Besides, he knew her, and IA wouldn't understand. They wouldn't understand what had happened to Jennifer Scotts and why it would cause her to forsake her own time. He wasn't sure he understood it himself, but he had seen the effects.

If she was innocent, he couldn't leave her there to die from a timeline correction. If she was guilty, she had to be removed and brought to justice. In either case, there were children, and something had to be done about them.

Something had to be done. Getting up, he got ready to do that something.

* * *

IA was, as ever, made up of annoyances. No Time Force officer liked them, though Alex respected their intent and tried not to get in their way. His anger had nearly boiled over, however, giving his voice an unusual roughness while he was talking to the last IA officer.

He had taken longer than he expected making clearances, but finally he was ready to go. He strode towards the Timeship dock, brought up by the presence of three officers in the corridor outside the door.

"Trip. Katie. Lucas," he addressed each in turn. Before he could ask them what they were doing there, Lucas spoke up. He'd become the team spokesperson ever since Jennifer had 'died'.

"We heard Jen's alive. We want to go with you to bring her back."

Alex shook his head. "Not possible," he said, looking over at the very solid figures and wondering if he could do this without having to throw what was left of the Ranger team into holding. "The three of you would constitute unnecessary interference in the time stream."

"But... but we're her teammates!" Trip pronounced, looking desperately at him, as if willing him to know something he couldn't quite say.

"I'm sorry, Trip, the risk is just not worth it," Alex told the Xybrian, alerted by something in the alien's posture that told him that something was going on. Trip had gotten better at lying during his time in the past, but not *that* good. The three of them had an ulterior motive, and if he had to guess, it probably had to do with Jennifer's disappearance.

There was a reason why the Time Force leadership had been so reluctant to bring the team up to full strength. Ranger teams had a notorious tendency to bond so tightly that a perceived injustice against one would bring the whole team fighting.

He gave them one of his best glares, hoping that the three of them would clear out before he had to give them an order to depart, or worse, have to be delayed getting them out of there. Finally, though, his glare and his unwillingness to depart with them still remaining convinced the team to leave him alone.

Either that, or they didn't want to tip their hand and reveal their guilt in the matter, which was starting to become a real possibility. At least his reputation among the team at being a pain in the neck was helping for once.

Alex swiftly entered the timeship, making an automatic sweep to check for life-signs before preparing to send it through the portal and into the twenty-first century. No sense driving the Rangers off and then finding out that they'd gotten on anyway.

But he was the only one there, and so he set his coordinates to Silver Hills, a year before Jennifer and her children were due to die. As the ship was slammed into the vortex, he just hoped he got there soon enough.

* * *

Alex emerged into the sunlight of the twenty-first century blinking and fumbling for his sunglasses, noting with satisfaction his perfect landing of the timeship. At least something had gone right.

Taking the tracker out of his pocket, he turned it on. Due to the actions of the four Rangers, the high command had quietly and secretly placed tracking devices in their systems, just in case they went rogue again.

When Jen's tracker implant came up on the screen, he knew that he was in the right place. It was all a matter of finding her.

After what seemed like hours, he finally did. He shut off his motorbike and walked into the park where several families and their kids seemed to be present. Looking around, he tried to spot Jennifer. But she wasn't the one who caught his eye; instead, Wesley scooped a little girl up, placing her on his shoulders, while the child laughed. He turned to a woman nearby, clearly laughing along with his daughter. Beja, he recalled dimly, Beja was one of the children who died in the car accident.

As the red-headed woman turned around, Alex momentarily forgot to breathe. There was Jennifer, her hair lightened by dye and the sun. Any doubt that he personally had about Jennifer's arrival in that time being deliberate was quashed. He knew her too well. It had been her choice, her plan all along, and he knew that without having the physical evidence that would prove it to anybody else.

Which meant that it had really been a good idea to leave her teammates in the future. They would have warned her, and he would have eventually tracked all of them down... it would have gotten messy. As it was, he had orders to tag Wesley and Eric, if he could. One concession he had made to go back and one he had gladly made.

Jennifer scooped a young boy, about the same age as the girl, into her arms. He must be Richard, their third, Alexa not being in evidence. Possibly not even born yet, given her age in the records as the time of Jennifer's death.

He started towards them, then stopped. He'd made the trip under the presumption that he'd be kinder than IA, but perhaps his past relationship would make it harder, not easier, for the two of them. Still, he had no choice. He had argued to be the one to go there and he would bring Jennifer and Wesley around, even if it killed the three of them. Literally.

Regaining his resolve, he started walking towards the soon-to-be-unhappy couple.

"Jennifer."

That simple, chilling word made the couple swing around, with almost matching looks of dread. Of course, he'd rarely come to them with good news, so they had a right to be wary. And this time he was there to take Jennifer and the children away. They would hate him, that was for sure.

But he had no time for that now. It was important that he press the importance of Jennifer's return upon the couple. They would listen, he was sure, but he had to quell their panic and explain things.

The two children were looking at him in the wide-eyed look children have when they were uncertain or scared. Their parents looked at him just as silently, tensed to defend their children. And they could do it, too. Jennifer and Wesley were neither idiots nor bad at defending what they loved.

"Jennifer. Wesley. I must talk to you. Come with me."

The two of them looked at each other, then much to Alex's relief came closer instead of making him chase them down. "What do you want, Alex?" Jennifer hissed, not at all pleased by his appearance in their lives.

"You know what I want," Alex responded. "I've come to bring you back home."

"I've made my home here now."

Looking at Jennifer, at Wesley, and at the two children, Alex could easily believe that. She looked like she was at home in this so far distant past. A perfectly capable Time Force Officer turned into a brainless stay-at-home. Alex reminded himself that she wouldn't have come to the past if she hadn't felt at home. Still, it was hard to remember that with her in native clothes holding a child.

"Jennifer, if you stay, you will die here. Your children will die here."

He hadn't meant to bring one of his cards out quite so soon, but it was the simplest way of ramming the point home to his wayward ex-fiancee. It was having the intended effect, but she was still resisting, as was Wesley.

"Let's discuss this somewhere else," he said, hoping that the duo would listen, or at least come. "Meet me at the beach."

With that, he strode quickly to the cycle, leaving the two behind.

* * *

Alex paced on the beach, waiting for the two Rangers to come. Yes, they were Rangers, as he reminded himself, still bound to obey the laws of Time Force, but laws weren't always able to dictate the bounds of the human heart. Love had a funny way of ignoring the words, as he well knew. He knew that Jennifer and Wesley wouldn't realize that they were not the only ones bending or breaking the law because of love.

While he had no such love for Wesley, Jennifer still held a place in his heart.

The forms of the two delinquent Rangers appeared gradually over the horizon, and Alex relaxed a little. Despite everything, they were willing to listen to him, or at least not make anything worse by running. Of course, Jennifer probably still had enough of the old Jennifer inside her that she would at least consider what he said.

Still, it wasn't going to be easy, not with Wesley being there to influence Jennifer. Not with the attachment that Jennifer had formed to this century. But he had to have both of them there - it wouldn't be fair to Jennifer if he didn't.

The two of them drew near, and he put his arms behind his back, knowing he had to look as stern as possibly. It was a serious matter, a serious crime that these two had committed, and even though he understood why, he still had to enforce the law. Even if it was in ways that weren't set out in the penal code. Even if one of them was his ex-fiancee.

"Jennifer. Wesley. Where are your children?" he asked, knowing that they'd probably stashed them in some safe place, far away from here.

"We left them at home," Jennifer responded, shifting her stance in the way that she always did when innocents had to be protected. Recognizing the movement, Alex moved away, trying to seem less threatening. Still, he wished that Jennifer had realized that when he meant all of them, he really meant all of them.

"This concerns them as well. You shouldn't have left them there."

"The twins are three years old!" Jennifer exclaimed, tensing into the protection position again, probably unconsciously. "They're too young to deal with this."

"They are involved, whether you like it or not," Alex countered. "They do not belong here, in this time. I'm not saying this to be cruel, Jennifer. I am merely stating a fact. Because of your origin, they are something that should not exist at this point in the timeline. If you wish them to live, they have to come home to their proper time. Them, and the child you must carry, even now."

Two startled expressions greeted his pronouncement. "Jen's... pregnant?" Wesley asked.

"It doesn't matter," Alex said, hoping to save himself from any parental joy on the couple's part. "Jennifer, the deaths of yourself and your children are inevitable. The timeline will purge you and them. Even if you avoid it the first time, it will try to do it again and again. It is a very efficient and untiring assassin."

"You don't have to go through with this deception," Wesley said. "I know you want her away from me."

Alex took an internal deep breath, reminding himself not to get angry at Wesley's provocative words. "I am here because both of you broke the law, and because I also saw what would happen if I didn't intervene. It's not because any rivalry between you and me. It's because I care too much to let Jennifer and those she loves suffer."

"Alex, if you take me back, I *will* suffer," Jennifer responded, moving forward as if to block his view of her husband. "Do you have *any* idea of how miserable I was in our time? I thought I'd accepted leaving this behind, going back... but I hadn't. I had become a part of this time, and I accepted that. I can't readapt to my own time. I've dug my own grave."

"But it doesn't have to be that way!" he exclaimed. "Jennifer, there is help. We can readapt your memories, make you forget this time. Make it less real. This is not your home, Jennifer. It can never be."

"Forget it. I am not going back. I don't want to forget." Jennifer turned away, Wes belatedly following her lead.

"Not forgetting was what caused this problem in the first place. Don't you want to be happy, Jennifer? Not longing for what cannot be? You have people at home who love you. People who would be happy to see you and your children safe. It's what matters, Jennifer."

And what of Wes?" Jennifer asked, halfway turned.

"He would have to remain here. He doesn't belong in our time, even less than you do in his. I'm sorry you fell in love here, Jennifer, but I thought you understood that it could never really be. All you have here is a charade. It can never be a full life. I'm sorry, Jennifer."

"I'm sorry, too," she responded. "I... I just can't, Alex."

Placing a hand on Wesley's shoulder, she started back towards where their car had to be located. Alex's fist tightened behind his back. Why couldn't they see? Why couldn't Jen see? Well, if she wasn't willing to listen, there was only one thing he could do. Walking fast, he soon caught up to the two wayward officers.

"Jennifer. Wesley. If you go back to the car, then I'll have to arrest you. IA will investigate, and I think they'll uncover that your teammates know more about this than they should. Do you really want that?"

"You'd really arrest Jen?" Wesley asked, sounding a little stunned. "Arrest the others?"

"He would," Jen affirmed, without him having to answer. "If I had no problems turning in Steelix, do you think that he would have problems turning me in? I committed a worse crime in Time Force's eyes than Steelix did, Wes."

"He can't arrest me, however," Wesley told her.

"I can, and I will, Wesley," Alex said, turning his gaze upon the cocky Ranger. Why Jennifer had fallen in love with him was beyond Alex's comprehension. "We may not be able to detain you in our century, but I can promise you that you would be considered a rogue Time Force officer, and they would find a way to deal with your crime."

"So you're going to threaten us now?" Wesley asked. He was shielding Jennifer, as if she needed shielding. Alex was glad he had injected the tracker into his system a few seconds before. If they ran, he would be able to find them.

"I am not threatening you. I am merely stating the facts. Jennifer must leave. Your children must leave. That is what will happen, by your choice or not."

Wesley made an aborted move of his head which may have been a nod, and then turned towards his wife. Jennifer seemed to catch sight of his expression. She began to walk towards where they had come from, Wesley following. As Alex started to follow, she said, "Leave us alone, Alex. We're not going anywhere."

Alex nodded and let the two pass out of sight. He brought up the tracker, pleased to see Wesley's transmitter working, as well as Jen's. They weren't moving. He sat there, watching the unmoving figures, and waited for the two to come back.

It was Jen who came back, Wes following. "We had a talk... and I'm going back. On two conditions."

He nodded, having a sneaking suspicion what those two reasons were, but prompted her by saying, "And those are?"

"One, I'm not going through memory adaptation when I get home. I want to remember Wes. I want to know why I did what I did. Second, I want to keep my children. I want them to know their heritage, and why they are there."

Turning slightly towards her, Alex nodded. "Agreed. But only if you agree never to go to the past again."

Jen straightened up into full attention, nodding in consent. "Then there's only one thing left to do. I'll go home and bring the children."

She seemed like she was almost crying, and Alex knew it was only because she was almost crying. Jennifer had conceded to him, but it was probably at a price that he couldn't imagine.

But he didn't have a chance to find out, as Jennifer turned straight around and headed back to where he presumed their car was, leaving him with Wesley. It was no doubt meant as a good-faith gesture, but probably also as a way of keeping an eye on him in case he had any tricks up his sleeve.

As the signal that represented Jennifer rapidly moved off, he turned to Wesley, hiding the tracking device before the other man could deduce that he'd been tagged. "What made you change your mind?" he asked.

"Because you might be good at dire predictions," Wesley replied, "But you've never lied. Left things out, yes, lied, no. And I want Jen to be safe. I want my kids to be safe, too, Alex."

"They will be safe," Alex offered, as a final apology. No matter what had to be done, he too knew what it was like to have a love taken away. "Once they come home with me. The law that Jennifer broke wasn't meant to keep you apart, Wesley. It was to keep Jennifer and others like her from dying. By bringing her back, the intent of the law is fulfilled. No good will come out of doing more."

Wes nodded in resignation. He seemed to be holding something back, but then Alex guessed that the other Ranger would have little to say to the man had forced the love of his life to leave him. "Then there's nothing more to be said, except for one thing. How good at you at disintegrating cars?"

Startled by the change in direction, Alex found himself looking for words.

* * *

Jennifer arrived, the twins in tow, about half an hour or so later. Each of the twins carried a small backpack, with Jennifer carrying a duffel bag, no doubt stuff she just couldn't leave behind. "Wes," she said, ignoring Alex, "Come back here, I need your help with some stuff."

Then she turned to Alex. "Beja, Richard, this is your uncle Alex. He's going to be taking care of you for a couple of minutes while your mommy and daddy get the rest of the bags, okay?"

The twins didn't speak, but looked up with identical stares at Alex. He somehow found himself holding the hands of the two children, while Jennifer and Wesley returned to their car. He tolerated it, knowing that he would become very much aquainted with the children once they and their mother returned back to their own time.

However, that didn't mean it seemed to take Jennifer and Wesley more than a few minutes to finish unloading bags. The bags they returned with were not that big, but there must have been some difficulty in removing them from the car. "Toys, for the kids," Jennifer explained. "And some... reminders."

He could allow her that, so he just nodded. Remembering his promise to help the two of them create a cover story, he headed towards the ship. "Come with me," he said. The couple followed him and the children aboard the ship without protest, where he settled the two children and the baggage. He then set up anti-sabotage sensors and preventers before returning with a device that would make the car disappear and give Wesley's story of a missing wife and children credibility.

It was, after all, the best way to satisfy history. The best way to save Jennifer. The best way to help all involved. In the end, finally, it was good.


	5. Breadwinner

The timeship landed without a problem and Alex looked at the controls in relief before releasing himself from the chair. Behind him, Jen sat strapped in, as did the children that she'd had with Wesley Collins. If his calculations were correct, she should be carrying a third within her own body, one yet to be born.

Frowning, he undid Richard's straps as he tried to think of somebody who would have knowledge of pregnancies. The vast majority of humans preferred the method in which he and Jennifer had been born, but there were a few hundred holdouts somewhere out there who still for some bizarre reason preferred live births.

Which meant that someone had to be delivering the children, and therefore would know how to take care of Jennifer. If he couldn't convince her to allow the child to be canted and born normally. He hoped he would.

But first he would have to confirm her health, as well as do his best to keep his word to both Jennifer and Wesley. He'd decided that he'd hide Jennifer's insubordination. No matter what Jennifer had done, he still owed her that much.

Jennifer was undoing her own strap, and releasing Beja's. Thankfully, she still remembered something of how to exist in her own time, though he had no doubt that she had been damaged in such a way that she might not be able to function well in her own time ever again.

"Come with me," he ordered, gathering up some of the bags the trio had brought with them. He'd arranged for medical examinations for himself and the three of them, just to get it out of the way. Who knew what diseases Jennifer and her children had carried with them?

But Time Force was well-organized, and he, Jennifer, and the children were soon on their way to the medical division.

* * *

Beja and Richard clung to Jen as the medical officers approached the trio. Alex had spoken briefly to the officer in charge, and then had been escorted out. The remaining medics had been dressed up in quarantine gear, no doubt because of the situation.

"I'm Dr. Lachlan," said one of the medics who had approached them. "Commander Scotts, would you come with me? Dr. Kincaid and Dr. Andrews will examine your children."

"Mommy?" Beja asked, tenatively.

"It's all right," Jen told the children. "They just want to make sure you're okay. As I told you in the ship, we just travelled a long way from home and these people want to make sure you don't get sick, or make them sick. It's just like home, but a bit different. Okay?"

Beja nodded, followed by Richard. Each of the doctors took one of the children, while Dr. Lachlan took her to an examination room.

* * *

Alex paused outside the council room, trying not to pace as he waited to be called in. He'd done this once before, to convince the leadership of Time Force that Jen's team didn't need memory adaptation.

Now, with Jen's disobedient dive into the past, he was forced, once again, to convince a committee that her memories shouldn't be modified, while at the same time convincing them that Jen had not deliberately gotten herself stuck in the past. If it weren't for what feelings remained between himself and Jen, he wouldn't be stuck in these postitions.

A quiet cough brought him back out of his thoughts as the door opened for him and he made his way into the chamber to make his report. He walked in, knowing that he had the attention of all in the chamber.

"Sirs," he said, knowing he had to be brief. "I just came back from my mission to retrieve Commander Jennifer Scotts. As you may know, she was thought lost in a timeship accident some years before. However, she was one of those fortunate few who survived, and, following regulations, did her best to blend in with the people of the century, having failed to reestablish communications."

"And where is Commander Scotts currently?"

"In quarantine, sir. In order to blend in more completely, she embraced the customs of the time and... well, sir, they were more primative in that time. She did things that most rational people of our time do not do. She returned with natural-born children. In fact, when I found her, she was carrying a third child."

The council members started talking at this, no doubt as surprised at this news as he could have been if he hadn't known of the child before he'd left.

"Is the third child healthy?" one of the council asked, obviously trying not to struggle with the matter. "And would the child be able to be born... normally?"

Alex gave the council member a small nod. "Dr. Lachlan believes that it is possible. As soon as Commander Scotts is out of quarantine, they will attempt the transfer."

"And Commander Scotts will go through memory adaptation, I presume, after the operation."

"With all due respect... I think she shouldn't." Alex told them, trying not to tense up. "There is no evidence that those who did not go through memory adaptation are affected any worse by their experiences."

"I disagree," came the voice from one side. Councillor Rainier. She turned towards the rest of the council. "From what data I have observed from the Ranger team that returned from 2001, the ones we permitted to retain their memories, I doubt they ever fully adapted back to our time. This is especially true for Commander Scotts. We haven't readapted their memories because the evidence of damage came about too late to correct, but at least we can prevent more damage in Commander Scotts' case."

"I agree with Councillor Rainier," Councillor Adams, the head of the council, answered. "I've seen the data. We all have. No, Commander Scotts will go through memory adapation. It is up to you and those in memory adaptation to work out the details. I know you will do well."

Alex nodded formally, knowing that protests wouldn't do his promise to Jen any good. As he stood before the council, ideas started formulating through his head, plans that would both satisfy the requirements of the council and keep the promise he made to Jennifer and Wesley.

"Dismissed," Councillor Adams said, and Alex walked out, concealing his thoughts behind his facade.

* * *

Jen forced herself more into the chair, preventing herself from pacing the room. Although all the amenities were provided for - a terminal, with access to entertainment recordings and reading material, a private bathroom, and anything that she could think of that would keep her body and soul together until they could decide what to do with her.

She hadn't seen Alex since she had been put in quarantine, and had little word on her children except that they were safe, and there was even some sign of adapting them to this century without use of memory-modifying technology.

"Commander Scotts, you have a visitor in the visiting room," the pleasant computer voice said.

She got up, trying not to explode out of the room to see who her visitor was. It was probably Alex or some official flunky with question on how she was and what would go on. She really doubted news of her return had reached her teammates.

When she reached the room, she could see Alex standing, stiffly at attention, outside the unbreakable windows that prevented her from passing anything dangerous onto the outside world. "Alex," she greeted her ex-fiance quietly.

"Jennifer," he greeted back. "I have some news for you."

Putting her hands behind her back, she waited patiently as Alex sat down on the chair provided for visitors. He looked up at her, clearly waiting for her to take the corresponding chair. "I've spoken to the council about your... matter, and they've come to a decision."

She sat, waiting for him to say anything further. He seemed to hesitate, in a way that she knew well, before confinuing. "They have decided that you should go through memory adaptation. However, they did not specify what to do with the children."

Jen closed her eyes, knowing that in Alex's expression that he would go along with the wishes of the council and that she would lose the memories of her time with Wes, along with the memories she shared with her children.

"After you are cleared from quarantine, the decision has been made to cant your third child. You will remain in custody of the children, but you will not remember the truth about them. In addition, I have set into motion documentation specifying myself as the father. It will fit in with the story that everyone will be given upon your return to society."

"And that is?" Jen asked, knowing that Alex had set up some story that would be totally believable.

Alex leaned forward. "That you've been on a mission for Time Force that required everyone thinking that you had been lost in a timeship mission. That the price you extracted from me was the children. All three of them."

Beja and Richard were far too young to know that reproductive methods differed in the thousand years between Wes' time and Jen's own. Alex could easily make the two of them believe that Wes had been a relative of some kind. "And you waived all parential rights?"

"Not all of them," Alex said briefly. "It would look odd, after all, if I gave up my right to assure the welfare of my own children."

And keep an eye on his disobedient ex-fiancee, that was for sure. She was dangerous in his eyes. Someone he couldn't control, couldn't dominate.

"I'll be back when it's time."

* * *

Alex walked out of the room, knowing that Jen had turned a murderous glare upon him. That was all right. He had to show that he was following orders. Making his way towards the technical area which housed the memory adaptation machinery, he started formulating what he had to do.

As he stepped into the room, one of the technicians greeted him with a smile. Allici Roberts was one of those in Time Force loyal to him, a member of the small group that someone in his position needed to stay afloat in the dangerous political waters.

Giving him a brief salute, she said, "I got your message. What needs to be done?"

He outlined what he wanted, and her nods became more frequent as her face settled into a quiet thoughtfulness. "What do you think?"

"Certainly possible. You're right, it can be pulled off. Just requires a little bit of fancy footwork so nobody realizes what's really going on."

"How long will you need?" Alex asked. "Because we do have some time. Jennifer can be released at any time, but there are things that need to be done first."

"I'll take that into consideration. I don't know, basically, but I'll give you an official report when I'm ready."

"Thank you," he said simply.

Allici nodded. "I hope she realizes what a sacrifice you're making."

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't still love her. I think even Jennifer realizes that."

"Good luck, sir."

With a final exchanged salute, Alex left the room. There was still some time to do what he needed to do to keep the trio safe, but he needed to do it.

* * *

A small icon flitted up on the terminal in Jen's room. Blinking, Jen gave the command to open it. It was a small message, text only, no doubt scrambled so that nobody knew that someone had gained access to the supposedly secure system.

"We're coming to get you, kids, 2220. Security will be disabled. Bring anything? Pizza?"

Jen allowed herself a small smile. Only her teammates knew of her fascination with the twenty-first century food. It had to be one of them, probably Trip. She noticed the window was waiting for a reply. "Bring communications device twenty-first century. Send."

The window obediently closed, sending off the information to whoever had gotten the message to her in the first place. If it was somebody else, they would probably think that she was going back to Wes. But she knew better, and so would the team when she caught up with them. Smiling a little bit more, she shut off the terminal.

* * *

Jen forced herself to remain calm as she waited for her rescuers to come for her. She hoped that she was right and that it was her teammates come to rescue her, otherwise she'd be in trouble and who knew what would happen to her and the kids.

The door separating her from the rest of the medical ward slid open softly, as a figure in a contamination suit stepped in. She tensed a little before she recognized Katie's face, then relaxed, grabbed those few belongings she had, and followed Katie out. The door slid closed as softly as it had opened, and Katie led her through the small corridor connecting her quarantine room with the rest of the medical complex.

Katie shed the contamination suit, placing it in a container that would probably guarantee that it would be cleaned of any incriminating evidence. The two of them walked out, passing through several corridors, finally ducking into a supply room. After several tense minutes, Jen began to relax, tensing up again as the door opened until she recognized the shapes of Lucas and Trip. The two of them were carrying small bundles, and as they got closer Jen knew that they had brought out Beja and Richard.

Nods passed between her three teammates, and smiles broke out as Lucas and Trip recognized Jen beneath the red hair. "Come on," Trip whispered.

The four of them proceeded slowly down the corridors of Time Force headquarters, careful to avoid various and sundry late-shift members of Time Force, as well as trying not to awaken Beja and Richard. Finally, they skulked into another storage closet somewhere in the building. Jen had lost track of where they were going, but knew her teammates wouldn't lead her straight into a trap.

"What are we waiting for?" she asked, unable to wait any longer. Her desire to get out of there, to get free of the white corridors and the possibility of Alex or security closing in to drag her and the children back to certain doom.

"There's going to be a glitch in the system in about fifteen minutes," Trip told her, a shy smile playing on his face. "Security between us and the door is going to be very light."

In other words, Jen realized, Trip had set the security on a side door and corridor to malfunction for a short time- enough to let them through. For one reason or another, however, he'd had to set it up not knowing how much time it would take the four of them and the kids to get over there.

"Did you bring the device?" she asked. A mystified expression replaced the smile on Trip's face, but he fetched it out of his omnipresent backpack regardless. She activated it, praying that it hadn't gotten lost in the havoc.

A few quiet beeps later, she was rewarded with an answer. "Jen?" Wes asked, sounding out of breath as if he'd run halfway across headquarters in order to talk with her.

"Hi, Wes," she said simply.

"Wes!" Trip exclaimed quietly, his smile returning, and smiles dawned on Lucas' and Katie's faces.

"Is everyone all right?" Wes asked.

Jen nodded, momentarily forgetting that Wes couldn't see her. "For the moment," she answered. "Wes, I don't have much time right now. Alex reneged on his promise. He's going to force me into memory adaptation if I don't get out of here. It might be a while before I can talk to you again."

She could almost see Wes nodding. "I heard Trip. Are Lucas and Katie there, too?"

"We're here, Wes," Katie responded warmly. "Don't worry - we'll get Jen to safety where Alex will *never* find her."

One of the bundles on the floor stirred, and Beja looked up sleepily. "Daddy?"

Jen kneeled down, offering the device to her daughter. "Here, say hello to your daddy." When Beja just stared at the device she added. "It's just like a phone, honey."

The little girl looked her. "Hi, daddy."

"Hi, Beja. Are you okay?"

"M'okay."

"That's a good girl. Listen to your mom and her friends, okay? Don't do anything weird."

"'ill, daddy."

"Good girl. Let me speak to your mom again."

Jen ruffled Beja's hair. "Go back to sleep."

Beja, apparently too tired to argue, nodded and lay down again.

"Do they know where they are?" Wes asked.

"I think they've been told that they're in the future, but I don't think they realize what that means yet."

The Wes in her little mental picture nodded once again. "I guess it's easier if they just get used to the future. It's not like they can ever come back."

Wes' voice indicated what he felt about the matter, which mirrored Jen's own. He had given his children and the woman he loved in order to save their lives, but that didn't mean he was thrilled about it.

"Did he say anything about the baby?" Wes asked.

"Alex said... he said that before I went through memory adaptation, that I'd go through a procedure that would make the child born normally."

"For your time," Wes said, comprehension lacing his voice. "I guess he would."

Trip was looking at the door, and Jen knew that it had to be almost time. "Got to go, Wes."

"Hope to hear from you soon," Wes told her, though from his tone she knew he didn't expect to hear from her any time soon.

As the others gathered the kids and prepared to leave the room, the door slid open. "Hold on, Rangers."

* * *

An insistent beeping made Alex turn from his console. He frowned at it, and then remembered that he'd set the complex's sensors to tell him if any of the other Rangers got physically close to Jennifer. Which, it appeared, they had. He called up the signals of the trackers imbedded in the Rangers and found that the four of them had joined up and were just outside the medical center. As the four signals proceeded away from where Jennifer should be, he took a portable scanner and headed out of his office.

He could have known that the Rangers would attempt something like this. He didn't think that they'd be ignorant as to not have something up just in case Jennifer returned to their time from 2001. He knew they'd seek contact with her. And they knew what Time Force did to those who had spent an extended period of time in another century.

And, with Murphy's law in effect, of course they'd find her and break her out the day before she was scheduled to get her life back in sync with her own century. He'd made a promise to Jennifer, and he would keep it, but some things he couldn't do. Not at all.

Following their signals, he cursed the fact that his office was so far away from where they were headed. Perhaps he would find them, get through to them, before Jennifer's team whisked her off into the night.

Much to his relief, the four signals finally stopped. Perhaps they were waiting for some convenient security failure to occur, something likely programmed in by Trip and Circuit.

It gave him some time. Some time to turn them from their course before terrible things happened, things that even he couldn't prevent.

He stopped before the door, triggering the lock release. Nobody would have reason to go into the storage room, making it both an ideal place for four rogue officers to hide out, and also for him to discuss things that would be disastrous if they reached the ears of the council.

The four were packing up, but he spoke to get their attention, stepping forward so that the door would close behind him. "Hold on, Rangers."

Time Force's Ranger team didn't precisely snap to attention at his presence, the way that they should if this had been a legit gathering. "Nobody's going anywhere," he told them, standing close enough to the door so that someone would have to toss him away from it first, but not close enough to trigger it.

Sure, Katie could get him out of the way with little effort, but he hoped that he could talk fast enough to escape any injuries. Even with the inbuilt loyalty to Time Force and their superiors, he had his work cut out for him.

It was Jennifer who pushed to the front, leaving her teammates to 'protect' her children from him. "We're leaving, Alex."

"I can't let you, Jennifer, for your sake and your children's. I'm doing this in your own best interest."

Taking a step forward, Jennifer looked up at him. "My own best interest? Maybe yours, Alex! You've done nothing but railroad me and tell me what to do. You promise me that I won't have my memories erased, and then when I'm sitting there in quarantine, where I can't do anything about it, you tell me that you are. I don't want anything to do with you, and then you tell me that we're going to share custody of the children! This isn't the early twentieth-century, Alex. I have a life... I had a life, with Wes. Just because you can't handle that is no reason to behave like I can't function without your presence. Like I'm your little wife and you're going to bring home the bread."

"It's not like that!" he exclaimed, before getting a hold of his feelings again.

"Then what is it?" Jennifer asked. "You're not a part of my life anymore, Alex. Why can't you accept it? Run off and pursue Allici Roberts. I'm sure she'd be flattered."

"Technician Roberts is busy right now," he said evenly, hoping that she'd catch the hint and shut up.

"Right," she said, in such a sarcastic tone that indicated she didn't believe him for a minute.

"Believe what you will, Jennifer, but I've come here to save you from the danger you're walking into."

"What danger?" Jennifer asked, the other three looking curiously at the two of them but plainly allowing Jennifer the interrogation.

Jennifer's expression was unyielding, but he forged ahead anyway. "When the four of you returned from 2001, your refusal to submit to memory adaptation made the council... suspicious, especially in light of your refusal to obey orders and leave 2001. They've kept an eye on the four of you ever since. Basically, the four of you are considered damaged goods. People that they have to keep an eye on because they don't trust you to do your jobs. The four of you are also the reason why the policy on memory adapation was strengthened. They can point to the four of you, especially Jennifer, to show why the policy is in place. And I don't blame them."

"Damaged goods?" Trip squeaked.

"The four of you never successfully readapted to our time," he explained. "If you do this, if you insist on following this plan, they will investigate. They will know what I know. Are all four of you that willing to give up everything? Because that's what will happen if they don't find Jennifer safe in her room tomorrow morning for the procedure, and especially if she's not around when it comes time for memory adaptation."

"And if I go back, I won't remember Wes at all," Jennifer countered. "I won't remember that Beja and Richard are his. Why should I stay when I can remember so much more if I disappear?"

Looking at Jennifer's defiant stance, he knew that without something to stop her, she would leave, and unknowingly ruin everything for herself.

"Damn it, Jennifer! I promised you that you would remember everything, and I will honor that promise. Allici's setting things up so that when you go through memory adaptation, it will just seem that your memories have been changed. I was planning on coaching you after you got out, but you forced my hand."

"You were *what*?" Jennifer asked, her expression and her tone of voice both expressing her disbelief.

"Believe it or not, Jennifer, I am not trying to run your life. I just love you too much to not want to make things better. I don't think what you're doing is very wise, but I know you too well. I want to see you succeed on your path, but first I have to get you out from all the scrutiny. And I can't succeed at that if the four of you keep fouling up my plans!"

"If you love me, you'll let me go."

Alex stared at her, the words sinking in. Wasn't that what he'd just told her? Let him guide her out to safety and then let her go? Oh, he wanted to make sure the children were safe, but was that so bad? Plus it assured those in control that Jennifer wasn't a threat to them.

"I know you feel responsible for us going back into 2001 to chase Ransik. But that was my choice, and the others went along. I was the one who chose to let Wes in on the team. We chose to remain in 2001 because that's what we were trained to do. Protect civilians, no matter what time they were from. We didn't want those memories taken away from us, no matter how much it would have made our lives easier. We changed, and we just couldn't be changed back to what we were before."

Jennifer's eyes were starting to glisten, despite the challenging body stance. "I think I've just started to realize that."

She backed down a little at that. "I don't want to go back. How do I know I won't walk out of there thinking you're still my fiancee?"

"Because it would be a lie, and I wouldn't do that to you, Jennifer," he told her. "Maybe... it would be better if the two of us were mostly out of each other's lives too. But we won't get there if you don't go back. Please, Jennifer. It's the best way to accomplish all of our goals."

It was then he knew he had her, that he'd worn down her resistance to the idea. The others would go along with whatever she said. She turned around, picking up her daughter, who appeared to be asleep. A clearly confused Katie picked up the other bundle, and the other two proceeded to gather things up.

But this time it would be back to the medical complex, pretending everything was normal. Alex relaxed, preparing to lead the way.

* * *

Jen walked into the memory adaptation room, nervously letting Allici Roberts fit the helmet onto her head. "You've been through this before. It's no different, but you have to stay *in* the booth this time."

Trying not to let her fear show through, Jen let the other woman lead her to a booth and settle her in. Alex had whispered instructions to her, directing her to let him guide her out of there. He wasn't the only one in the room. Two officials were there, presumably to certify that she did go through the adaptation.

And, for some crazy reason, she was letting Alex do this to her. Letting him have the chance to play havoc with her memories. But he had made a promise to her, and in the end, she could only hope that he would honor it.

Hope that he would let her go. That Time Force would let her go.

The booth hummed, and images of the last few years flowed through her mind, as if something was sifting through them. She saw Wes' face as he recited the vows after the minister, in the same serious manner that he'd had when she'd presented him with the oath.

Reading books about pregnancy when she found out the two of them had concieved a child.

Eric's grin when Wes came back to Silver Guardian headquarters to share the news that the two of them were getting married.

Mr. Collins holding his grandson for the very first time, a sappy smile on the businessman's face.

Then, suddenly, the images faded, and Jen heard the door open and a hand grasping her arm. Alex's, she presumed, because she couldn't open her eyes. "She won't remember," he promised to someone. "I'll return her to medical."

She let Alex's arms and hands guide her through the hallways while she struggled to open her eyes. But she was tired, more tired than she thought possible. "Only a little farther, Jennifer, then you can sleep."

The thought of pulling away surfaced briefly in her mind, but she pushed it away. She had promised too, and she was so tired, exhausted, it seemed, from trying to retain her memories.

After that, she couldn't struggle anymore.

* * *

Alex watched as Jen surrendered to sleep, knowing that it wouldn't be over until she recognized that he had been telling the truth. That she knew that she had retained everything, remembered Wes, remembered the twenty-first century.

But that was the price he had paid for that day on the beach, for recognizing that she was not the Jennifer he had met that day at headquarters, nor even the one he'd sent back in time. This Jennifer had become untrusting, questioning everything that was said and done. And even though this Jennifer would never really love him again, he still saw strong echoes of the Jennifers he had known.

Some coaching would be needed, enough that the council would have no clue of what he'd done, but with Jennifer's help, he would be successful in the end. Then he could let her go, staying there to assure her safety.

It was what he'd owed her. Despite what she'd said the night she tried to escape, he still felt responsible for her and for Wesley. For what she'd become, for what led her to that room, sleeping the sleep of the newly adapted.

Turning, he left her to her sleep. He had work to do.


	6. Home Art Gone

Wes stared at the piece of paper in his hand, given to him by a well-meaning staffer of his dad's. It was almost time for the memorial service, though three of the attendees knew that the person they weren't mourning wasn't truly dead. Of course, since she was a thousand years in the future, it was as if she was truly gone.

Of the three, only he knew that there was a tenuous connection to the future. Jen had left him with a communications device, one that connected to a booster on Trip's side that had allowed her to keep in communication with their former teammate. Reconfigured it, so that he could use it. All under Alex's nose.

But she wasn't with him. Alex and Fate had nicely arranged it that way. And he, knowing that their choice was Jen going home or dying, had asked Jen to consider living. Without him.

That day, thanks to Alex, Wesley Collins was a widower. A man who had lost his wife and two children in an unfortunate accident after a sudden desire to see the beach.

Except that he couldn't grieve. He knew the kids were safe, that Jen was safe. That Jen was living a lie ten centuries in the future and that he was going to be a father again.

The door swung noisily on its hinges and Eric, an extremely uncomfortable-looking Eric, walked in. An unlikely friend, and one who could understand.

Eric retrieved the piece of paper from Wes' hand, and read it silently, frowning. "It's appropriate," Wes said, in the staffer's defense. "'Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages....'"

"'Golden lads and girls all must, like chimney sweepers, come to dust.'"

The reading was neutral, but Eric's eyes told a different story. To him, to Wes' dad, Jen was truly out of reach. The children, lost forever. But Wes couldn't share what he knew. To share it meant that Alex would hear, and his last tie to Jen and the children would be severed.

That, he couldn't take. He had a feeling that it was that day in which he would truly grieve. But not now. Not while he knew that she was alive. Living. In a future he would never know because he was from the wrong time period.

"I can't believe I'm going through this," Wes said, though it was more to break the silence than for anything else. "I guess I have to. To gain some *closure*."

"You could have said 'no'," Eric said finally.

Wes shook his head. "What good would that have done? The guy was going to take Jen away whether either of us wanted it or not. Besides, Alex might have the personality of a potato peeling, but he's right. If he said that the three of them would die, I believed him."

"Sure," Eric said, his voice gaining a sarcastic edge. "So you let him walk off with her without a fight? You should have stopped him, Wes. Don't go moaning about it again. You could have stopped him. You could have called me, and I would have stopped him. But instead you just handed Jen over to him like she was some three-day-old bread."

"I didn't *hand* Jen over to him. She knows... knew him very well. He doesn't take trips into the past unless there's some critical reason."

He was defending Alex, heaven help him. To Eric. When what he really wanted to do was go back in time and force his way onto that ship. To be with Jen.

As he studied Eric's face, he realized that just maybe Eric had gotten used to Jen being around. Just as his father had, after getting used to a daughter-in-law from another century. Both of them were grieving for someone that they would never see again.

Of course, it was different for him. How did somebody mourn in a case like this? How did one grieve when they knew that those they seemed to mourn was actually still alive, and quite well?

"She knew what she was doing, Eric. She had a family to think of. Jen... was pregnant."

At that, the Quantum Ranger's face became a shade or two lighter, followed shortly by a reddening. "Jen was pregnant and you didn't tell me?"

"We found out when Alex told us. I mean, I never got the chance to confirm it, and he didn't mean to let it slip, but it was the final thing that convinced her. What parent wouldn't like their children to survive? That child would have been three months old when it died, Eric."

He felt quite safe referring to the newly-named Colleen as an 'it', since nobody would ever know her true sex. Colleen would never know her grandfather, never know Eric, and the two of them would never know her. It was safer that way.

And he knew Eric would have done anything to protect Colleen, to protect Jen, to protect the twins. But how did one protect three children who originally never had existed, and a wife that one was never supposed to be married to, from something that was bound and determined to kill them? Kill or move out of fate's way, that had been Jen's choice. Personally, he preferred to know that she was alive rather than being dead on some roadside. That his kids would grow up under his teammates' influence.

But it didn't stop Eric from grieving, from thinking of what he could have done to not be in the side room of a chapel, saying goodbye to somebody who was good as dead. He, like Wes, was stuck grieving for a woman both dead and alive.

He had been the one to verbally kick Wes into accepting that Jen had come to the twenty-first century, breaking all of her Time Force oaths to be with him. He had been the best man at the wedding, and the ex-Officer and the Silver Guardian had struck up quite a relationship. Eric was a colleague, sure, but somewhere in there he had become a *friend*.

Only Wes, only Jen, only Alex had seen that things had to be done. Nobody else could have done it. There were some things that had to be given a wide berth and accommodated whenever possible, regardless of one's feelings.

The door opened, admitting the pastor. "Are you ready?" she asked gently, interrupting his thoughts.

Wes nodded. "I think so," he replied, getting up and taking the piece of paper. "Fear no more the heat o' the sun...."

The pastor smiled in her own way. She had been accommodating, willing to do whatever was needed, whatever they wanted to have done. He hadn't had any idea what to do, so he had let her lead. "Just say what is natural to you," she suggested. "If that's not natural, toss it."

Wes nodded, aware of Eric behind him. "I'll be there in a minute," he told the pastor. For some reason, some inscrutable reason, she left him standing there, sweeping off with a brief nod. As if he had privacy with Eric in the room. As if he was ever going to be prepared to make a speech.

After all, how do you do a eulogy for someone who's not dead?


End file.
